


can you imagine?

by arpeggioschuyler



Category: Hamilton-Miranda
Genre: F/F, Imaginary Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpeggioschuyler/pseuds/arpeggioschuyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria is just a figment of Eliza's imagination. She knows this. </p><p>But Eliza can't help but wonder how her mind came up with someone so human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can you imagine?

**Author's Note:**

> yikes what am i doing
> 
> this was originally an original story and then i changed stuff around because im trash of the thing
> 
> hi, lin!!

When Elizabeth Schuyler first meets Maria Lewis, she is seven years old. 

She knows it had been a bad night— she'd had a nightmare, still adjusting to her new surroundings, the first night in the house of the family that had adopted her. She remembers crying into the baby blue blankets that her new mother had gotten for her, and wishing for some source of comfort, someone, something. When she finally succumbs to sleep, she has a very pleasant dream.

It's a blustery summer day, and she's at a playground. It's empty, aside for the fact that one swing is taken up by a small figure with red sneakers. Eliza tentatively makes her way towards the swings, towards the young girl who looks to be about one or two years younger than her. 

The girl says “Hi,” in a very small voice. “The other swing is open.”

Eliza pauses. “My new big sister told me not to talk to strangers.” She voices.

“I'm not a stranger,” the girl says. “I'm Maria.” She smiles a gap-toothed smile, and Eliza can't help but smile back.

“I'm Eliza,” she says, and it's the start of a beautiful friendship. 

Maria likes cats, and she prefers the red Popsicles over the blue ones. Eliza likes the blue ones better, but it's okay, because that means there's more red ones for Maria. They become fast friends, and after that night, Maria continues to frequent Eliza's dreams to the point where Eliza can't remember a time when she didn't know Maria. 

////

Eliza is ten and Maria is about to turn nine when Eliza gets a new little sister. 

Her name is Margarita, something she can't quite spell yet, but she likes to be called Peggy. She doesn't show how shy she is in the beginning, except to Eliza and Angelica, because they both went through that. Peggy reminds Eliza of Maria sometimes, so when Peggy can't sleep at night, Eliza tells her stories of all the fantastical adventures they go on.

Eliza knows, realistically, that Maria exists only in her dreams, but she can't fathom the idea of outgrowing her. She's a constant ghost, a comforting shoulder to cry on, a source of stability. She's always there, but always a touch out of view.

So Eliza tells the stories to Peggy. She replaces fairytales with her dreams. She takes on the role of a raconteur, weaves tales that seem impossibly unreal. Eliza tells Peggy about the time they couldn't figure out where to go and their surroundings ended up a confusing jumble of Ancient Rome and Mars. Seven year old Peggy agrees that Ancient Rome, Eliza's idea, sounds cooler than Mars, which the girl laughs about with Maria. After the hasty story, Eliza rushes to her room to have more adventures, only to find Angelica waiting for her.

Angelica is twelve, dressed in her coral nightgown, perched on the edge of Eliza's bed. Eliza loves Angelica with all her heart— she's the perfect older sister, so caring and yet so intimidating to the boys at school who tease Eliza for being so quiet. 

“I heard the story you told Pegs,” Angelica says to her, and Eliza pushes back her betrayal at Angelica listening in. “Was that about you and Maria?”

“Yes,” Eliza admits, biting her lip.

Angelica hesitates, hating to break the obvious. “'Liza, she's not real.”

Eliza knows this, of course. Maria is nothing but imaginary. But she is her best friend, and she's never letting go of her. Her heart breaks whenever it sinks in that she's not real, but she sometimes cuts her hands trying to stitch it back together in her dreams.

“I know,” she says quietly.

Angelica looks almost guilty. “I just don't want you to get hurt—”

“I know, Angie. Good night.” Eliza hugs her sister, who soon leaves the room. 

The stories stop. The adventures continue.

/////•

By the time Eliza is fourteen and Maria has just turned thirteen, they fall into a routine.

At the end of the day, after Eliza bids her sisters goodnight, she settles into sleep and meets Maria. They decide where to go, what to do, to explore an ancient castle or float around in space. Anything is possible, and when she's with Maria, she feels like she's on top of the world. 

This time, they're in a museum, and Maria is acting off. Eliza is explaining her favourite paintings, and by the fifth “mmmhmmm” from Maria, she grabs her hand gently. 

“What's wrong?” She questions softly. 

Maria pauses, glancing down. She opens her red-painted mouth to speak, but hesitates, seemingly embarrassed. “It's stupid.”

“I won't judge you.” Eliza promises.

Maria keeps her brown gaze on the floor as she says, “I drew you. In real life. I'm not very good at art, but I wanted to give it to you, but I couldn't figure out how.”

Her heart almost melts at the statement, and she pauses, searching for a solution. “How about you redo it? We'll imagine up a studio and get some art supplies, and then I'll pose for you.”

Maria's eyes widen and Eliza can tell the younger girl is cursing herself internally for not thinking of that. Her smile brightens up the whole room. “Thanks, 'Liza.” She says, and then they're off.

It takes about thirty minutes for Maria to get it exactly how she wants it, and they hang it in the museum. It takes another thirty minutes to get Eliza to stop praising her work and hugging her.

////•

Eliza is nearly seventeen and Maria is fifteen and they're in a cafe beside a volcano when Maria says, “I have a boyfriend.”

Eliza turns to look at her, all sheepish smiles and downcast brown eyes. It's weird to think that her imaginary friend has an imaginary life too. She pauses before she speaks, unsure of how to phrase her words. “That's amazing,” Eliza says, hesitant, before continuing. “Don't you just- don't you think it's weird? All of this?”

Maria tilts her head to the side in that adorable way she does when she's confused. “What do you mean?”

Eliza runs a hand through her dark hair. “I mean— I just wish you were real, that you actually had a life outside this, that you weren't just in my dreams.”

Her red lips twist into a crooked half smile, that seems almost sad. “I wish you were real, 'Liza,” she says softly.

Eliza looks to her, but doesn't say anything. They know each other well enough now. 

Maria glances at her, then downwards, almost ashamed. “His name is James.”

////

To Eliza, it's awful to think that the person who understands her best isn't real, and only appears in her mind. Sometimes, she feels real. When Maria's father dies and all she wants to do is stand on top of a mountain and scream until her voice gives out, Eliza stays with her the whole way through.

When Eliza's adoptive grandmother dies, Maria stays with her as Eliza burns down cities in her grief. She pauses when she can see the flames reflected in Maria's dark eyes. She stops, extinguishes the flames, leaving them in darkness. They sit in silence in the ash for the rest of the night, but Eliza keeps reflecting on Maria's gripping verisimilitude. 

She wonders how her mind came up with someone so human.

/////•

Eliza can't fathom her world without Maria. Maria is comforting red smiles and wavy hair and nimble fingers. She is carnelian eyes and the sound of pleasant humming. She holds Eliza's whole world on her shoulders, all of her problems. Here she is, forever Atlas, with the galaxies weighing down on her shoulders. She scorches her fingers on Eliza's stars. 

Maria carries Eliza's world, yet she is her world.

She's nothing but a ghost, a perfect stranger. She knows her inside and out, yet is still worlds away.

And Eliza? She keeps Maria afloat on this sinking boat of life, keeps her alive. She is her lifeboat, her buoy out at sea. When the ocean gets tough, she is there for her.

Maria is the ocean to Eliza's earth, temperamental and changing, as she is grounded and sure. Maria is the moon to Eliza's sun, shifting and reflective, and she is light-hearted and burning with passion. 

The two of them, they could change the world. It's simply poetic justice that they have found each other. Combined, they are beautiful. 

Eliza thinks of this, of them, a lot. They support each other, equal each other, and balance off each other. Together, they are perfect.

If only Maria could realize that in the way Eliza wants her to.

//////

Eliza has just turned nineteen and Maria is seventeen when the fight happens.

They're in a castle in their fictional Ireland when Maria says, out of the blue, “James proposed.”

“What?” Eliza says, shocked, pausing. 

“I said yes.” Maria smiles. “We're getting married as soon as I turn eighteen.”

“That's in five months. You haven't even graduated yet.” Eliza says, stunned.

“What, so you're not happy for me?” Maria says, getting defensive.

“No, of course I am! I'm just… concerned.” Eliza says, trying to be careful, but Maria already fired up.

“Why would you be concerned? I love him, he loves me. Don't you want me to be happy?” Maria snaps at her.

“Maria, I've seen the bruises.” Eliza says hesitantly, remembering all the times Maria's shown up with a black eye and pretended there's nothing wrong. “There's something wrong in this relationship and I—”

“Who are you to tell me there's something wrong with my relationship?” Maria shoots back harshly. “You don't know me.”

“That's a lie,” Eliza counters, her words cold. “I know you better than you know yourself, and we both know that. If he's hurting you, you need to get out.”

“It's fine. It'll be fine. We're engaged, and everything is going to be fine.” Maria says angrily. 

“You can't keep lying to yourself,” Eliza says, locking her eyes onto Maria's. “I can help you, please.” She begs. 

“I don't need help. I'm done.” Maria says, all white-hot anger, and she turns and walks away. Eliza doesn't run after her, just watches her go.

After that, Eliza stops dreaming of her so often.

/////•

Eliza meets Alexander Hamilton through Angelica. He's bright, intelligent, and talks non-stop. He's the complete opposite of Maria, and somehow she falls for him. He seems taken with her as well after Angelica introduces them at a party with an odd expression on her face. He sends her 500 word text messages each night, and after just a week, he asks her to dinner. He's a broke college student who insists on paying, so they sit in some dingy diner, laughing and sipping milkshakes, and she nearly forgets about Maria. 

//////•

Maria's sitting on the edge of the swings where they first met, head buried in her hands. Eliza joins her quietly, taking a seat next her. When Maria finally looks at her, Eliza wonders where the time went. The magnanimous little girl who had declared herself not a stranger is no longer there. She's eighteen now, and married to James. She still likes cats and red Popsicles more than the blue ones. Now, she's taking night classes in art while Eliza's going into social working and Eliza bets that if she goes back to that museum that they dreamed up together, Maria's sketch of her will still be hanging on that wall. Everything has changed, and yet, nothing has.

“I miss you,” Eliza says, in a ghost of a whisper, taking Maria's hand gently. Eliza rests her head on her shoulder, and Maria rests her head on Eliza's head. 

“I miss you too,” she answers, and Eliza can't help but feel that they both know the underlying messages between those. I miss you, Eliza says, but she really wants to shout: how did it end up like this, I love you, I can't imagine my life without you. She wants to scream about her unrequited love from the rooftops, but she doesn't. She just waits in peace.

They stay like that for a moment, content. Then, Maria lifts her head, and Eliza lifts hers, and the younger of the two says, “I wish you were real, 'Liza,” an echo of what she said so long ago. 

This time, she responds. Her eyes meet Maria's as she says, finally, “So do I.” 

Looking at Maria, Eliza feels like she is waiting for something that will never happen. So she leans towards her, presses a chaste kiss to her cheek, stands, turns, and leaves.

She knows she watches her go.

////• 

Eliza is twenty one when her boyfriend of two years, Alexander, publishes a ninety-five pamphlet about him cheating on her and Thomas Jefferson spreads them around the campus. 

The Reynolds Pamphlet, it's called, and Eliza feels sick even thinking about it. She doesn't read it, she avoids any mention of it. All she knows is that Alexander cheated on her with some freshman at another university after that freshman's partner blackmailed him. She's upset, to say the least. She deletes every text message between them, deletes every cute picture and every screenshot, makes sure that no one knows her side of the story.

Angelica returns from her exchange program in London to chew Alexander out, which makes Eliza feel better. Angelica holds her as she cries, and Peggy comes down from Albany with cookies and an offer to beat up this Reynolds girl. Eliza says that she doesn't wish any harm to the girl, she's just upset that Alexander could do this to her for months. 

One night, they're in Eliza's dorm, sitting on her mint bedspread, when Peggy says, “I read through the pamphlet.”

Eliza had known that Angelica read it, but she wouldn't've thought that her younger sister would read it. “Why?” She asks. “There's no point.”

“I wanted to know.” Peggy says determinedly. “Fuck James Reynolds. And while we're at it, fuck Maria too.“

Eliza pauses. “Maria?”

Angelica laughs sardonically. “I forgot to mention. The girl who helped your ex boyfriend ruin your life has the same name as your imaginary best friend.”

Eliza bristles, but doesn't comment. Peggy chimes in again. “What I can't get is that if her husband, that Reynolds guy, was such an abusive dick, why didn't she leave?” 

“Her husband?” Eliza asks.

“Yeah. She's married to James Reynolds.” Angelica says. 

All Eliza can think of is Maria. Maria Lewis, who married an abusive man named James. “Is there a way to contact Maria?”

Angelica looks uncertain, but nods. “I'll get you her phone number.”

/////•

It takes about a week for Angelica to get the number, and another week for Eliza to get the courage to call. When she finally does, it rings three times, and then is answered with a hostile but familiar “Hello? Who is this?”

“Maria?” Eliza breathes out, uncertain. 

“Who is this?” Maria says sharply, and Eliza knows for certain it's her.

“It's Eliza. Eliza Schuyler.” She says.

There's silence on the line before Maria says, “She isn't real.”

“I am, Mary.” Eliza says, using Maria's nickname. “I am real. I wanted to talk to you about the pamphlet. I'm Betsey. I'm Hamilton's ex-girlfriend.”

“Eliza Schuyler isn't real and will never be. Don't call this number again.” Maria says, and hangs up the phone sharply. 

//////•

Eliza stops dreaming.

Logically, she knows she still dreams. But she never has any more adventures with Maria, and when she does show up, it's always in blurry images and muddled frames. She stands across a crowded room, they lock eyes, and then everything fades. On those nights, she wakes up without her alarm, feeling desperately alone.

Sometimes it's peaceful, not running around on crazy adventures that lasted too long. Other times, it's lonely and unfamiliar. She just reminds herself that her childhood is long gone. It's far past the time where she should've outgrown her imaginary friend, even if Maria turned out to not be so imaginary after all. 

She's ready to let go of this childish life, of these chimerical fantasies. 

She's ready to let go of Maria Lewis.

/////////

Eliza is walking back to campus after getting coffee with two unlikely friends-- Aaron Burr, who is Alexander's frenemy, and John Laurens, Alexander's ex. The two are having a friendly debate about the unreality of time. Eliza's not really invested in the conversation— she sips her coffee, glancing around, when she sees it. She sees her. 

Wavy brown hair on a curvy, dark figure bent over a sketchbook. She knows her. She has dreamed of her since her childhood. She has to be hallucinating, because there's no way that Maria Lewis is sitting on a bench, sketching. She pauses, seven steps behind Aaron and John, and they turn back, realizing they left her behind.

“What happened, Eliza? Finally realize that Aaron doesn't— ” John starts, but Eliza isn't processing his words. 

“Give me a moment,” Eliza cuts John off, shoving her coffee into his hands. In an instant, she's almost sprinting towards the bench. As she gets closer, she calls out, “Maria?” 

She looks up, sees her, then jerks upright off the bench like a soldier standing attention. She flings herself into her arms, near tears. “Eliza?” She hears her ask as she hugs her back.

She pulls away from the hug and takes her hands. “Maria,” she says breathlessly. “I thought I dreamt you.” She looks at him carefully, unbelieving that she's real, that she's not dreaming and Maria is there with her. She wants to memorize all the details of her face, from her button nose to his sepia eyes. 

“Me too,” she replies, uncertain. “That phone call— that was you? You were his girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Eliza admits. “It's been a year, there's nothing to worry about now, Mary.” 

She smiles, looking up at Maria, who's barely any taller than her. Here she is, in person, the girl she spent her whole life with. She knows her biggest fears and deepest secrets, and she knows hers. She is her Atlas, and she is her lifeboat. She would trust her with her life. She leans forward and kisses her. It doesn't take her long to reciprocate, and it's worth the wait. She pulls away, and Maria has that beautifully crooked smile on her red-painted lips, and their fingers are still intertwined. She can see that Aaron and John have caught up, standing in her peripheral vision. 

She can hear the mild confusion in Aaron's voice as he asks, “So who's the girl, 'Liza?”

She releases one of Maria's hands and tightens her grip on the other as she turns to face Aaron and John. She glances at Maria in the corner of her eye. “She's someone I've known my whole life.” She says, and Maria kisses her cheek.

It's nothing more than that.

**Author's Note:**

> im. im so sorry


End file.
